"The east wind carrieth him away and he is gone; and as a storm it hurleth him out of his place." (Job 27:21, Darby).
The hope of the hypocrite is confronted by the parable of Job. "This is the portion of a wicked man," he says, "terrors shall take hold of him as waters, a tempest will steal him away in the night. The east wind will carry him away, and a storm will hurl him out of his place." (see Job 27:1-21).
You'll be sippin' tea on a hot summer day, enjoying the refreshment as you merrily go your way, when an unexpected shock changes everything. A storm is coming.
First will be what seems a simple rain, which will then turn to a downpour, and then -- as they say in Texas -- a gully washer. The hard rain will turn to hail; the kind that knocks holes in housetops. The temperature will drop dramatically, and the rain will turn to ice and sleet. Alarm will begin to seize the hearts of men -- and then a lull will come.
Sunshine will break through the clouds, and it will seem for the moment that the storm has passed. A haze will linger, lit up by the sunshine, making it difficult to see clearly what lays yet ahead -- just off the East Coast. The worst is yet to come.
A storm is coming from the East. And when it hits, there will be many things that simply will not matter anymore. Our petty squabbles, our cherished points of view, our heated debates with ignorant opponents, our blusterous speeches and pontifications, our sense of self-importance and enrichment -- none of these things will matter when the storm hits.
I suppose we ought to get prepared. Make sure you have good footwear, 'cause you're going to need it in order to walk through the aftermath of the coming storm. And even now, it might be a good idea for you to begin thinking about the things that really do matter; for it may be too late to do anything about it if you wait until the storm comes.
A storm is coming.